


The Murder Of Mr Sanders

by metaphoricalpluto



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Mention of blood, mention of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:06:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metaphoricalpluto/pseuds/metaphoricalpluto
Summary: An opening to a possible murder mystery of The Murder Of Mr Sanders





	The Murder Of Mr Sanders

**Author's Note:**

> So i did some more creative writing based on prompts of photos and i got the idea for this detective au when i found had a certain photo for it, so i made this! Whoever the detective is is up to you and so is who is murdered ^-^ i doubt ill be writing any more of this au but i have a few ideas as to what it might be about so if anyone’s curious i could try and answer any questions you might have :)

The loud crunching of my boots as I walked bounced off the closed walls of the alley. It was a dingy place, certainly not the cleanest; the stuttering streetlamp illuminating the grime as I approached, flickering as if someone was trying to send a message in Morse code. To my left I passed a door, covered with paint in all sorts of colours, work done by a couple of delinquent teens I would suppose. To my right was a window, fenced and grated off to keep it safe from any attacks that might come forth. Knowing the recent levels of crime in the area, it was probably just as well.

Footsteps were imprinted into the powdered ice that covered the ground, making light reflect in the dark alley. They looked panicked and uneven, one foot sure of its placing and the other occasionally dragging behind, making a trail almost like a large snail would. My own boot prints followed behind me, causing a second set of tracks to appear. As I approached a left turn in the corridor of groaning brick walls, a gust of cold winter air bellowed through the walls of the alleyway behind me, the force of which managed to grasp my hat and blow it so it lay strewn upon the ground.

Bending over to pick up the brown fedora, my back aching, something caught my eye. A diluted red substance stained the snow near my hat. Curious. I crouched down, quickly pulling out my glasses which had been tucked into a pocket of my thick coat to keep safe. At closer inspection, I realised it was something that id recognise anywhere. A piece of evidence that I could use to back up my case. A hint to add to the mystery of the incident. And a clue that would lead me to the culprit to the murder of Mr Sanders. For there, soiling the snow with its colour and sticking out like a sore thumb; was blood.


End file.
